I could be your hero
by HumanKyt3
Summary: "A hero doesnt have to be someone whos muscles are huge, maybe a hero is someone whos just smiling through the pain for you" Kenny's whole world is caring for Karen, is there enough room for another person? Bunny, KarenXIke WARNING! IF YOUR SENSITIVE TO TOPICS LIKE DRUGS, RAPE, MOLESTATION, ALCOHOL, CRIMINALS, AND MURDER, PLEASE DONT READ. this will include most if not all of those
1. Kenny: the betrayal

**Hi everyone! so yeah because you all hate me as it is for all the cliffhangers in Southern Pariah Unkept, i decided what the hell and posted this! because im mean and ive had this in my files for way too long. I actually really liked this story idea, the whole Kenny and Karen thing really touches me because even though their poor, they love each other and he treats her like shes a little princess whos just lost her way from her castle. ok really weird speech moment type thing there but whatever lol. I also have yet to make a Bunny long story so thats what this will be. I hope everyone likes it and i made sure to put emphasis on Kennys poverty because i love poor kenny whos still a sweetheart and i hop you do to:) and i even edited this for once! I legit NEVER EDIT! your welcome my lovelies!**

I woke up early on a cool Friday morning. Spring has just begun but it still felt chilly in the cold mountain air, especially to me, living in the situation I did. Groaning, I slid off my mattress and focused on the pile of clothes on the floor that equaled a closet, since my closet had been replaced by my parents booze. Sighing, I pulled out a black hoodie that I loved to wear, even though it was incredibly thin, and a pair of blue jeans I'd worn three days in a row. I looked at my TracFone and saw it was still 3:30 AM. Perfect.

I'd have enough time to do some business before school starts, and maybe, just maybe, get some food for Karen.

Karen was my little angel; basically I was her guardian, her bodyguard, he shield, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. All I know is I would do anything for that smiling 13 year old girl.

Which really fucking sucked, because with our 'monetary issues', or in other words, my parents being too fucking buzzed all the damn time to get a fucking job, it was hard to be the brother who could provide for her. I've tried looking for jobs everywhere, convenience stores, mall stores, fast food joints, you name it, I've tried it. Too bad no one wants a 'filthy delinquent' like me working in their stores, afraid I'd scare away all the people away.

Seriously? Show your customers a fucking grease trap from McDonalds; let's see which one scares away a customer first.

So I was forced to watch my little sister starve, because I was hated and my parents were alcoholic assholes.

I didn't give a shit about anything else in the world, when I could give my baby sister some food and see her brilliant eyes flash and her smile go from ear to ear, no matter what I'd had to do to get it, it was worth every second.

I was walking out of my room, the cardboard door sagging and fell off the wall "Shit," I grumbled, trying to reattach the duct tape to the wall to no avail. I crept into Karen's room and stared at her sleeping form.

Her long dark blonde/light brown hair draped across her flat pillow and frizzy from her slumber, her large eyes shut with a slight purple streak under them from the restless nights she lied about. I knew she didn't sleep well, no matter how many times she tried to tell me otherwise, and I knew exactly why too.

Karen was scared. She was terrified of home. That is something a 13 year old girl should never have to be afraid of.

I gently kissed her forehead and scribbled out a "Good morning beautiful," on a balled up tissue in the corner of her room. It had no snot, but it was still sort of stiff, making me believe she wiped her tears with it. The thought sent a pang through me. Why the hell did she have to go through this? She was so fragile, so innocent and pure, she shouldn't have to put up with the shit she did.

Sighing, I hurried back into my room and grabbed my nice black pistol, kindly donated from Jimbo after a 'job' I did for him, out of my nightstand and headed out.

I tugged the hood up, like I used to when I was a little kid. I don't even know why I did that, I just felt safer when I was covered up, like the hood closed tight around my face could shield the problems and secrets from the people who didn't care anyway. I went around to the side into the 'garage' and grabbed a plastic bag nearly filled to the top with meth, tucking it inside the large pouch on the front and heading out.

The springtime buds were just beginning to bloom from the bare trees and snow scorched ground after the rough winter. This was Karen's favorite time of year, when the growing things were just beginning to come out. She said that they were hopeful, they were overcoming the cold times they had faced after hiding for so long. It was a beautiful thought, but I didn't fully understand it. Karen would always be deeper than me. I had too much to worry about, I had to take care of my little sister and make sure there was enough food and necessary items for survival, as well as making sure she was happy. Karen had no one to worry about besides herself, and so she had the time, and the beautiful pure mind to think deep thoughts that my mind just couldn't connect. Karen needed to get her emotions out, so she drew and wrote poetry. I knew this is what really made her happy, so I tried to do the best I could. I would save up money to get her special notebooks and art pencils and stuff but sometimes I would just have to steal. Whatever charge I would get if caught was nothing compared to the bright smile and shine in her brilliant blue eyes, exactly the color of my own. Sighing out of my thoughts, I hurried my pace, shoving my hands in the front pocket as guests to the meth and the gun. I just hoped everything would be alright, and that no damn cops would be out tonight.

I took turns and corners, a darkness settling like a fleece blanket over the small town, enclosed in the rocky mountains like a precarious mother protecting a child, almost like how I tried to protect Karen.

I finally found a dark, creepy alleyway that had a familiar face in it. Grinning at how much he would buy, I walked in the way, blocking him from leaving.

His dull eyes turned to me, a stone gray that had the exact amount of emotion as a common boulder. Small tips of black gothic bangs peaked out of the bottom of a blue and yellow chullo. We stared at each other for a long time, then finally to humor him, I said "Lovely weather huh?"

He sneered "cut the shit McCormick, you got it?" he asked, not a single emotion in his voice.

"All in good time Tucker, all in good time. So how are you doing this fine morning?" He looked ready to burst, and I couldn't help but smirk at him.

I probably shouldn't taunt a regular customer but I knew he wouldn't leave without his stash.

"Better if I could just get what I fucking want!" he nearly shouted.

"Ah ah ah, my dear Craig, I want the money," I pulled a hand out of my front pocket and held it out to him, palm up, wanting my offering of cash.

He shook his head "How do I know you won't just take my money and run off?" it sounded more like he was daring me to than a question.

I laughed with my chest "Don't you trust me? I've proven myself trustworthy, with more than just your drugs,"

He was motionless, he knew what I was talking about, then finally reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash "80 dollars right here," he held it out. I pulled out the baggie and he stared at it, then shoved a hand in his pocket "I have a gun, so hand it over,"

"prove it, pull it out," I ordered, as I pulled out my own pistol. His eyes only slightly widened, before returning to their dead nature. He didn't move his hand.

I cocked the pistol and pointed it directly at his forehead, its smooth surface barely gleamed from fading moonlight and distant street lamps. Craig took a step back. My face didn't change, my eyes remained hard and steady, my pencil like lips remained straight "Craig, I don't want to do this, but my sister needs this," I moved my hand toward the trigger.

"Okay okay! Here," he tossed the wad of money and, still with the gun pointed, made sure it was all there. Then I lowered it, shoved it back into my pocket and tossed him his weed. He glared at me the entire way he walked past me, and I returned it. Anyone who tried to fuck with my plans would get fucked in the face. This was never for me, I would be happy to never see a single scrap of weed again, but money was money, no matter how shamefully earned.

Contrary to the rumors in school, I did not smoke weed, I tried it once, but then I saw what it did to my parents and decided right then and there to never touch it. Until Kevin got arrested, then I needed to take up the drug selling business. I didn't smoke it though, I refused to touch it other than to pass it onto some other poor unfortunate asshole, like Craig.

I was just about to leave when I heard a car, I turned my attention, wide eyed, to the headlights that appeared. As quick as I could, I ducked behind a dumpster, which smelled like some serious shit.

"H-hello? Anyone back here?" That wasn't a cop's voice, but it was familiar. But I still didn't jump out, because it wasn't a person I wanted to know anything about me.

"I know you're here, come out," Damn. Grunting in annoyance and slight fear, I shoved myself up and stared into the dark brown eyes that I've seen since I was a little kid. His sweeping but still not too long locks entangled on his fair skinned forehead. Not pale, but not tan either, that's what you get in Colorado without it being a spray on. His pale blue jeans and blue button up shirt stood out against the harsh street colors. He must be new to this.

Of course he was new, or else I'd have seen him before.

"Kenny? You're in charge of this? I thought it would be someone older," He asked, his eyes narrowing and I just hoped he wouldn't tell the police, or else Karen would have no protection.

I refused to let him see my fear though "What, you expected better? Come on Mr. Marsh, you know what this is about. You gonna tell the cops that this is how I make my money?"

"Don't be stupid Kenny," he snapped, using the same tone as his son when I said something perverted or incredibly idiotic "I've never done this before but I have smoked pot before. Besides-"

"Woah woah, wait, what?" I asked, "You're here for the drugs?"

"No shit Sherlock," once again, just like Stan. "Have any or what? What do you charge?"

I mentally cursed myself. If I had known more than one person was gonna ask I would have brought more! Fuck!

"Come back at five, I'll have more. For a full bag I charge 80 dollars,"

"80 bucks! That's fucking expensive!" He exclaimed, glaring at me.

"80 bucks or no drugs." He muttered a little but I knew he'd give in, so I walked right past him, bumping into him on purpose. He let out a grunt of protest but said nothing. I curled my lip, but he didn't see.

When I was near my house again, the morning light was barely peaking over the mountains in the distance, but it was still plenty dark. I undid the shitty lock and shoved in, the reek of the house hitting me full on. Lucky I was used to it by now. I walked toward the garage but a small shadow caught my attention. I turned on my heels.

Karen was shaking, her hands wringing and eyes cast downward. Her large pajamas were on crookedly, one of her sleeves were over her shoulder, leaving it exposed. Her hair, which had grown so much since she was younger, was touching her upper back and was tousled. Her large eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, since we had no power. The bright pastels of her pajamas were dull and wrinkled. She shivered as a breeze rushed through the broken window. "Why are you up Karen?" I asked her, walking closer.

"I couldn't sleep, I heard you leave" She rubbed her eyes with a balled fist, like a little child. She WAS a little child, she would always be my baby sister, even though she hasn't been an infant for a long time "where did you go?"

My stomach dropped. "I just went for a walk, I couldn't sleep," I lied easily.

And yet she knew "Kenny, I'm not a little kid anymore, I can handle it."

I sighed, still unwilling to tell her. I muttered "selling drugs," into my feet.

She tilted her head toward me "What?"

I looked back up "I was out selling drugs for money,"

Immediately her gazed changed. Her fist balled up and her large eyes narrowed at me, but they also had a tear leak out of them. She wiped at it impatiently with her fist "Kenny, stop selling the damn drugs. That's how Kevin got arrested, I can't lose you too!" she got louder and louder until she was near shouting, her voice breaking in pain and loss.

"How the hell else am I going to get you food!" I yelled, then walked over to her and hugged her, petting her unkempt hair "I have to go. Go back to bed, I'll be here when you wake up,"

She looked back up at me, her eyes glistening "Promise?"

I smiled "I promise," I kissed her forehead, letting her know she always had me.

"Be careful," She stayed for a moment longer, then pulled herself out of my grip and without looking back, walked back to her room. I almost didn't hear the sob escape form her throat as she slammed her door.

Fuck. Sighing, I went back to the garage and grabbed another baggie, then headed out before I could change my mind.

Why the fuck did poor little Karen have to live in this environment? What the hell did she do to condemn her to this life? I needed to get her out of here, and fast, before something could go wrong.

I found my way back to the alley and saw Randy had waited. I made my way over to him but made sure I blocked his exit. People could be sneaky, and there was no fucking way this douchebag wouldn't pay up.

"Alright here it is," I pulled the baggie out, and he actually began to salivate. Disgusting.

And people thought this was the kind of person I was. Then again, did selling it make me any better than the people smoking it? Yes, I mentally convinced myself, because I'm only doing this for Karen.

"Can I get a sample," He questioned, never removing his eyes from the pot.

"No, pay me," I snap. I don't want to be here all fucking night; I just want my money so I could go home and see the look on Karen's face when I showed her.

"Give me some now," he demanded.

I shook my head "I have a gun Randy, don't make me use it." I patted my middle pocket.

Most people that was enough, but he was suspicious of my honesty "Prove it,"

So I pulled it out, spinning it on my finger and catching it by the rigged handle. His eyes widened and with no further protest, he handed me the money, snatched the baggie, hustled into his car, and drove away, but suddenly turned back, smoke rising and wheels screeching, he came back, nearly hitting me, and ordered threateningly "Don't tell anyone, especially Stan, that I was here," and with that, he left me.

I smirked. When the hell did I give away confidentiality? I shoved the money and gun back into my pocket and walked along the abandoned streets back to my own. I closed the flimsy door gently, making sure to not wake anyone. I walked into my room in four steps and looked in the broken mirror, pieces of my face broken up and repeating in each separated crack. Deciding I looked good enough, I didn't bother using the minimal water we had and just went into Karen's room again.

I stepped gingerly over the messy floor and was just about to place a gentle hand on her shoulder when she rapidly spun around, looking me directly in the eye.

"Kenny!" she threw her arms around my neck and buried her head in my thin hoodie. Closing my eyes, I hugged her back, rubbing her back as she sobbed.

"Shhh, it's going to be okay, I promise," We just sat there until her head lifted, big blue eyes looking into mine.

"Kenny . . . I'm scared," and I wanted to rip the house to shreds right then and there.

Instead I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them and looked into her eyes, smiling and soothed her "I know, don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you. Why don't you spend the night at ruby's house?" she nodded and her face was losing its subtle redness.

"Get ready for school," I patted her shoulder and she jumped up from her bed and raced away to the bathroom, grabbing a ratty, overused towel on the way. While she was in the shower, I grabbed a Poptart and snuck it into her bag. A few minutes later she was out, her long hair naturally pin straight and no makeup on. Not like she needed it. She wore an old green jacket zipped fully up and a pair of ragged jeans. Her shoes were regular tennis shoes that had definitely seen better days. Sighing, I ushered her out the door and walked with her to school, which was South Park High School. There was a total population of 458 students in the whole school. Four hundred and fifty fucking eight, which sucked ass, seeing as I saw them all much more often than someone at a normal school.

"Kenny, are you staying home tonight or are you going over one of your friends?" Karen asked.

"depends on if you're going over Ruby's" I told her. We walked in silence the rest of the way. When we arrived, the little freshmen saw her strawberry blonde haired friend and with a small squeeze of her hand, I let her go, watching as they walked and talked immediately as Karen reached her and they laughed as they walked into the building. I grinned and turned, only to nearly smack into Kyle and Stan.

"Dude, what the fuck! Why the hell weren't you and Karen at the bus stop?" Kyle snapped. I squeezed my eyes shut, my eyebrows furrowing. It was too damn early to be yelled at.

"Bad night alright? Fuck off," neither one left, in fact, they just ignored my retort and we began to walk, Stan and Kyle talking about school.

"Dude, I have no fucking clue what we're doing on Pre-Calc, do you get it?" Stan asked. I forced a straight face, trying to not give anything away. I sold Craig drugs all the time, but this was Stan's own fucking father, it was harder to not give a damn about selling weed to one of my best friends dads.

"Dude, it's not even that hard, you just have to use the paper we got and simplify the equation . . ." ok Kyle was getting boring, time to zone out.

The halls were full of pubescent teens rushing around, trying to find their equally awkward friends. I on the other hand, was far from awkward. I was a confident mother fucker. Every time a girl passed, their eyes trained on my lengthily and I made sure to make them feel wanted, winking or smiling. They would walk away giggling, most likely trying to find their friends so they could brag.

Kyle and Stan were still talking about that damn Pre-Calc lesson when we reached our lockers, which by some miracle, were all stationed right next to each other. I ignored the redhead and raven next to me, somehow managing to stay away in a math conversation, a feat I had never mastered, and opened my locker, spotting a long, thin white envelope on the bottom, as though someone had shoved it hastily through the vents on the door before scurrying off.

I looked at the front '_To Kenny._' it said, in neat but not perfect handwriting. I untucked the flap and in the envelope, staring me right in the face.

Was a twenty dollar bill.

I stared at it, almost gaping. I looked around, wondering who could actually give enough fucks about me to give me money. We were high schoolers! Who the hell had money?

I pulled it out, it was slightly wrinkled but moderately clean for a bill. I smiled at it, folded it, and shoved it into my pocket. I was about to throw away the envelope until I realized it was thicker than I thought. With another glance, I realized a note was shoved into it. I unfolded it, and written in black pen, was this in the same handwriting.

'_I hope everything works out for you. Stay safe and god bless you and your sister'_

I wished it had a name on it, but it was anonymous. I patted all around my locker and sure enough, another little gift from my new anonymous friend.

A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I began to salivate more than Randy had earlier that morning. I can't even remember the last time I had seen so much food in my own possession. Not Kyle's or Stan's or Cartman's or even Karen's, but mine. It was MY sandwich.

My mother fucking sandwich, I was given a sandwich FOR ME.

I ripped it open and ate half of it, which settled my screaming stomach for a short while and somehow found the self-control to save the rest for lunch later. It was exciting to have food waiting for me later today.

Plus I was hanging out with my friends with their stuffed cabinets and full fridges. Today would be a good day.

I grabbed necessary books and shit and rushed to my first class, Gym, reaching the locker room just as first bell rang. Sighing relief that I wouldn't get detention AGAIN, I went to my gym locker and pulled out my uniform and began to change, Butters in the locker next to me.

"Kenny a-are you okay? I mean you're usually happy but right now your, like g-glowing" Butters asked.

I laughed "Yeah, I'm good, just a better morning than expected,"

"That's good," Butters smiled before turning back to his locker and pulling his clothes off, causing me to glance over at him.

Butters, as guessed, had a very feminine look to him. Everything about him was soft. He had pale, milky skin and light blonde hair. His soft baby blue eyes were massive and seemed like a clear pool, it seemed as though all his tears had collected around his pupil to form the pale robin's egg blue eyes that enclosed them. His smile was dazzlingly white and his face clear and smooth as milk, seeing as his parents expected him to always be decent and perfect and obedient. Nothing different so they could say proudly to their friends "Yup, our son ALWAYS follows the rules and does everything he's supposed to!" Butters never complains about being just a trophy, but I can tell it doesn't sit well with him. He still keeps that etched on smiled bright and happy, just like mine. He had a perfectly flat stomach, seeing as his parents had him on the PERFECT diet (his parents pissed me off, trying to display perfection even though all of them were fucked up) and his ass was a soft curve but still wonderful to glance at. I knew every ass in the school and Butters' was one of the best, a close second to Kyle.

I also changed, the rough fabric of the uniform harsh against my bruised, cut skin. We just walked the entire class, and once we finished we changed back and I saw I had a message from Karen

**Karen**

**Received: 7:26**

**I'm staying over Rubys tonite, walking home, grabbing some stuff, then her dads picking me up. Dont worry about me ill be fine**

I smiled. She knew me too well, she knew I'd ask that eventually.

"Who's that Ken?" Butters asked.

"Karen," I could hear the warmth in my voice and so could he.

"Aww, that's nice," and with that, he grabbed his stuff and left, but not without another look at me, a smile given that no one else gave me, a genuinely nice smile and scampered away. Even my friends smiles seemed forced 99% of the time.

No need to wallow in self-pity about that though, I deal with enough shit, from idiot crack addicts to ignorant friends to drunken family members.

Butters smile made me feel a little better about the whole 'selling drugs to my best friend's dad' thing, which had begun to pick at my brain again. Only he and Karen could melt the steel in my heart.

Feelings were weakness, and I needed to be strong for everyone who depended on me, whether they wanted to or not. Whether they tell me their deepest secrets, I know them anyway. I was needed in school, not wanted, and honestly, it had just been normal to not feel wanted. But that smile changed it, and I found myself smiling to myself.

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**Ok so i would love feedback, what to improve or expand on or even just comments about the whole thing please review. and also if anyone ever has anything they ever want to talk about, home problems, tragic love life (hey, like mine! oh wait mine doesnt exist, 'lol sadness' {whoever the first to name the video that that last part in single quotes is from i will give you a special mention in my next chapter} haha) etc etc just PM me and ill help as much as i can cuz i want to make you all happy and feel perfect because you all are beautiful :) smiling yet? i hope so, and if not, heres somethign to smile about, i swear i will post the next chapter of Southern Pariah Unkept in less than a week, maybe tomorrow if i have time not doing homework and walking for kidney disease (hooray for charity!) but if not at the latest wensday. love all of you so stay beautiful!**


	2. Karen: the deal

**OK LONGEST TIME EVER WITHOUT UPDATING A STORY! i was going through my stories and saw this adn remembered that i loved this story, but then again not many other people liked it. its really gruesome though but i kinda like it, more experience and more passion in it. and DONT WORRY ILL UPDATE SOUTHERN PARIAH UNKEPT TOMORROW! (today? i dunno lol whateves!) so this ones in Karens POV and every chapter will switch between the two. READ THE WARNING PEOPLE, IF YOUR SENSITIVE TO ANY TOPICS LISTED IN THERE, LEAVE NOW! anyway otherwise enjoy!**

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Sighing, I plopped down next to Ruby at lunch. She looked at me questioningly as I sighed again and opened my tattered blue bookbag. I jerked the zippers apart as though it would completely destroy my day if I didn't, and shoved my hand into it, searching for the Poptart I knew Kenny put in my bag earlier. I wasn't an idiot, and after a while people just catch onto things.

Mostly, sometimes, even if someone does something for a long time, they can still surprise you. Today was a wonderful example.

When I accidentally tore another hole in my backpack I couldn't handle the pent up frustration "GOD DAMMIT!" I spat.

Ruby's emotionless brown eyes stared lazily at me. "What's up with you?" she asked. She sounded bored but I knew she really did care and want to know.

I crushed my fist into the table "fucking Filmore!"

Her eyes changed quickly. She put a hand on my back and at the same time pushes a clean lock of bright strawberry blonde hair out of her almost acne free face. She sighed "You know he's a total douche, why do you let him get to you?"

"Because this time he started mentioning my social class. Before it wasn't so bad. 'You're ugly' 'you smell' stupid shit, but why the FUCK would you start telling me that my family is a bunch of fucking hoodrats?" I clenched my fists, trying to dig my nails so hard into my palms that maybe I could dig out the rage that bubbled under my skin so badly.

"Don't let it get to you Karen they only do it because they know they can get a reaction. Why do you think no one bothers me? I'm boring." I couldn't help but laugh.

"You're not boring, you're just a Tucker," she smiled, well, smirked really. That was a Tucker smile though. And that's as close as you could get.

"So tonight at three my dad will get you alright?" she said.

"Yeah" I replied, and then grabbed my books "Hey I'm going to head out alright?" she nodded and I grabbed my bag and Poptart and left the cafeteria. I saw Kenny with his friends Stan and Kyle as they argued on which was the best video game. The fat one, I think his name is Cartman, started to say that Jews have no rights to play games and his favorite game was Nazi Attack 2, and then Kyle and him started to argue, Stan sighed, and Kenny waved to me. I waved back and then Kenny started to laugh at a remark Kyle said.

Honestly I don't really understand why they hang out with Cartman, he was arrogant and rude, even worse than Filmore. Kyle must be a real badass to put up with that.

I left the cafeteria and started headed in the direction of the outdated school library when I saw them, Filmore and his Gang.

Filmore was a nasty kid, with bad acne that just seemed normal on him, a spiky over-gelled black hairstyle, and clothes that always seemed too big even though he wasn't a scrawny person. He lifted weights that seemed almost as big as me, and he loved showing off his muscles to anyone who walked by him, constantly having people around him who admired him, also known as his Gang, who really just had the same mean snarl on their faces as Filmore had.

Filmore Anderson, one of the biggest assholes a person could meet, and of course I had to be lucky enough to cross his path. He hadn't used to be mean to me, in fact he used to try and impress me with his "amazing body and charming good looks" but I didn't see anything cute or even remotely charming in the air in his head and the cockiness in his step, so I told him, and ever since he's made my life hell.

His face tilted upward and his smile crinkled his eyes as he saw me and I knew I'd be done for. I let Ruby's advice go through my head and I stared at him with a bored expression.

"Hey Filmore," I said, trying to get past him, but he barricaded me.

"Hey Karen, nice looking Poptart, hope that didn't take your whole welfare check" he sneered.

I felt my head boil but I just shrugged and tried again unsuccessfully to get by him. He stood basically two inches in front of me while my back pressed against a locker I was unwillingly pushed against.

"Where are you going Karen?" he asked with fake innocence "I thought we were having a lovely conversation about your disgusting rat life?"

I sighed "look, I just want to get to the library."

"Why? You're so poor you'd have to put a library book on layaway," his friends laughed along with him. I did not.

"Library books are free," I informed him as though he hadn't known. His smile fell.

The quickly returned with a dangerous edge to his eye "So how's your crackpot, deadbeat, loser of a brother?"

I can't remember the last time I felt a fire burn so strongly in my veins. My chest pumped with rapid breaths, my fists clenched into bony balls, and I could feel the heat of my eyes burning into Filmore's acne ridden face.

"Now LISTEN!" I screamed at him, pushing him back with both hands. His eyes stretched wide. I was completely ignoring Ruby's dull voice in my head telling me to walk away. That was her style, not mine. "I don't give a flying fuck who you talk about. You can tell my I'm ugly, stupid, whatever, But you NEVER talk about my BROTHER ever again!" I said with a shove to almost each word. His friends were still backing up but he was trying to keep his cool look.

He smirked "Why? It's true, He's nothing, and come on, why would he care if I say this, he clearly doesn't care as much for you as you do for him, otherwise he'd be here right now,"

"AUUGGGHHHH!" I screeched, unable to handle the billion degrees pulsating through my body. I kicked upward and smashed my foot as hard as possible into his unmentionable parts. He shouted in pain and fell over and I crushed my foot once again into him, except this time in his face. I snatched his rock hard hair and yanked his bleeding face centimeters from mine.

"Listen you piece of shit, never talk to me or anyone close to me EVER AGAIN, or I swear to god you'll have no teeth, now GET LOST!" I didn't wait to see what he did next. Fuming, I kicked him out of my way and walked down the hall, people moving out of my way as I headed to the school library. I heard him cough out "ugly bitch!" but I just kept going.

As soon as I reached it, I went to the reference section. No one ever came in here anymore; everyone did their research online, making this the perfect place to hide within the blank front covers of books and dusty shelves. It made everything clearer and easier, to think, to observe, and best of all, to cry.

Now that my anger was out, hot tears poured down my face and landed on my baggy ripped jeans. I released silent sobs as I thought. Did Kenny care as much about me as I did him? If he had, why wouldn't he come to me when I had screamed? Why did he just stay in the cafeteria as I was being assaulted? And most of all, why hadn't he noticed anything about the bullying? I had been tough then, but usually I was weak, not releasing my feeling through actions, but through illustrations and poetry.

One sob was loud and I quickly covered my mouth to conceal it, but I realized I was too late, because I saw a shadow pop up at the front of the shelves.

"Karen?" I looked up, wanting to smack myself as I knew I had tears on my face still, but then sighing in relief.

"Oh, Ike, it's you," I smiled and he walked over and sat down next to me. Ike was in the same grade, even though he should technically be in 7th grade. I was about two years older than him, even though my 14th birthday was next week and he was 12. He wasn't the cutest, he was more average looking. He had a scrawny flat build, Thick Square reading glasses that made his beady blue Canadian eyes look a bit bigger. He also had black hair but after trying many styles with it, he decided to just let it do what it willed, and that was a messy sort of mop that worked really well for him. He had a round boyish face, clear skin, and was 5'8 already. But I didn't really know much more about him besides that, he was usually shy and in higher classes than me.

I sniffled, and then looked down in annoyance with myself. Ike just smiled slightly and pulled something out of his pocket and then handed it to me.

It was a tissue. I gave him a grateful look and wiped my eyes, which I was sure looked really unattractive but I didn't care.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. I looked at him and smiled, nodding.

He set a face that said 'I'm listening' and I explained everything about Filmore. As soon as I said his name his listeners smile turned slightly and by the end he was frowning deeply.

"I always hated him. He's a total dick-nozzle" I laughed.

"I know, and usually I don't let him get to me, but this time he just struck a nerve." I felt the rush of tears almost overwhelm me but I forcefully pushed them back. Crying was weakness, and I did that enough.

"Why?" he asked.

I sighed "He told me Kenny doesn't care about me"

He put an arm around me and I felt comforted "I have never siblings as close as you and Kenny, and I know he loves you or he wouldn't do half the stuff he does. Your even close than me and Kyle. Don't let Filmore get to you, he cares a lot."

I felt comforted by Ike's soothing voice, and his words made more sense than my thoughts had earlier.

The bell rung, taking both of us by surprise. He jumped away from me, a hand on the back of his neck as he shyly looked in his lap. I turned my head away too, my eyes cast toward the ground.

He stood up and offered a hand to me. I looked at it in shock. He saw my face and started to pull away but then I tilted my face up to his and smiled, taking hold and hoisting myself up with it.

"So what class do you have next?" he asked.

"Biology," I said "you?"

"AP chem, were in the same hall, Can I, uh-" he rubbed his neck again.

I smiled once more "Want to walk to class together?" I asked.

He nodded and we both walked slowly to class, talking and laughing.

Finally I reached the entrance to my class. "Bye, and thanks again," I said, my cheeks burning as a blush expanded across my pale face.

He nodded and turned away, but I noted the same dusting across his cheeks as well.

I walked him walk two classes away and enter a door, then quickly scurried into my own class just as the bell rung.

"Good thing you made it Mrs. McCormick," Mr. Ackmore, a lazy eyed balding man, remarked dryly. I looked downward and headed to my seat next to Ruby, although my mind still thinking of Ike.

I tried to concentrate but it was tricky. All I could think of was Ike's unusual kindness. I lived in a very poor and very cruel part of town. You had to be hardened to it, and that included being used to the trash that lived there. Ike was different. He was sweet and courteous, even more than the better social classed people here. Why was he so different?

And why was I still thinking about this?

Suddenly the bell rung and a blank page sat in front of me. Mr. Ackmore was yelling "Okay students remember to write a descriptive essay on the division of cells and the processes they go through, it's due next week!"

Shit, I didn't take any notes; I was too busy thinking about the black haired boy.

Who was waiting outside my classroom door.

"Hi," I said. He looked up at me and immediately started rubbing his neck. I laughed.

"Oh, hey, want to walk to class together?" he asked. Sympathy flooded through me. Ike didn't have many friends, from the taunts of his Canadian heritage to his superior intellect to his shyness and difference in attitude than the other kids; he wasn't near the most popular child at the school. He was more of a loner, spending his free breaks and lunches in the cafeteria to keep up his over 4.0 GPA. He was one of the most antisocial people I knew

So I smiled again, and delightedly said yes.

All day he would wait outside my classes and walk and talk with me to them. He was easily one of the funniest people I knew. Once you got past his logical and introverted shell, he was really awesome.

Finally I had to walk home and Ike, knowing that my house was on the complete opposite side of the town, said his goodbyes and walked away. I turned and headed to my own house, unlocking the splintered door and pushing harshly to get it unstuck off the rusty hinges. I headed to my room and packed a few sets of clothes, all that I owned. I didn't have a whole wardrobe of clothes like my other friends. Dad had told me to choose 5 outfits I liked and put them in a nightstand that had three bins. One held pajamas, the next held undergarments, and then the bottom held my 5 outfits. He found the old beige thing in the junkyard. My closet was then transformed into a "weed garden" as dad liked to call it. Kenny called it "dad fuckup stash". I just called it "my old closet"

I grabbed everything I could fit into a massive pink duffel bag, which was everything in all of my drawers, and then snatched up my toothbrush and shoved it into one of the pockets. Hoisting it over my shoulder, I ran outside to wait on Mr. Tucker.

About two minutes later, there he was. In his ugly blue station wagon sat the massive, pudgy, ginger haired man who had stone eyes like his son, who scared me a bit, and hands that could quite possibly fully enclose a horse's neck. Mr. Tucker was wearing a plain brown button up and a pair of blue jeans and he had his slightly unnerving stare fixated on me as I tossed the bag into the car and then hopped inside.

He ran his hand along my hair as I passed to get into my seat in the back and I couldn't help but shiver. Lately Mr. Tucker has gotten weirder than ever. His stares would remain on me when I passed, his hand might linger if he patted my shoulder or head, and once when I spent the night over their house, I thought I woke up to him standing over me, but then I closed my eyes and rubbed them, only to reopen them and have him gone. I'm still unsure if that actually happened.

Mr. Tucker began driving almost before I had put my seatbelt on. he went down the familiar road to turn . . . right?

Usually we would go left to get to the Tuckers house, why was he going right?

He kept driving, making unfamiliar turns until we reached someplace that I'd never seen before.

Where were the people? I looked to Mr. Tucker, and he was beckoning me to the front seat. I obeyed cautiously, feeling a deep hollow pit in my stomach.

Mr. Tucker grabbed my arm to help me up and when I was situated, he had his arm around my shoulders and was rubbing the skin by my collar. Unlike when Ike was doing something similar, this wasn't soothing at all. It set alarms off in my head.

"M-Mr. Tucker?" I asked, but he shushed me and started turning my face to him. He licked the side of my neck and I just sat there. Why the hell did I just sit there? I was frozen, encase in a frozen shell of shock, and Mr. Tuckers warm wet tongue wasn't doing anything to heat me up.

I tried to protest but he smashed his finger against my mouth and pulled his wallet out, pulling out a fifty and holding it right in front of my face with his left hand while his right one was creeping down my side and close to the hem of my pants. I was transfixed on the 50 dollar bill. Ulysses S. Grant stared at me critically as I allowed the sick man to slide his hand back up, this time underneath my shirt. His cold rough fingers stopped at my belly button and circled it, but I refused to look at him. I stared at the man on the bill. He almost looked disgusted with me as Mr. Tucker's thumbs stroked my bra. I gave a jump followed by a yelp.

Tears flooded my eyes as his fingers edged dangerously underneath my bra and he rubbed the skin of my breasts. I closed my eyes and silently sobbed, wishing that the pleasured moans were just apart of another horrible nightmare.

Lips whispered "open your eyes" into my ear, but not in a romantic way, in a sexual, perverted, and almost dangerous way. I squinted them open and suddenly the hands were out of my shirt and the money was in my hand.

He started the car again and sped his way to his house. He talked as we drove.

"We will do this regularly, you will get paid 50 dollars every session, I promise, okay?"

I sputtered "N-NO! It's not okay! This isn't safe for me!"

He smirked a slimy smile "Ah, but drug dealing isn't safe for your brother, and you do love him right?"

I gasped. He knew. HE KNEW.

Mr. Tucker would pay me for this. Kenny was in more danger out there than I was in this car. Kenny could get shot or killed or jailed, especially if Mr. Tucker knew and decided to call the police. If I allowed him to just touch me, just some, then he would get his pleasure, Kenny would be safe, and we'd still get money. Everyone won.

I chocked back the selfish desire to spit in his face and decline, but I choked out a teary "okay,"

He smiled "excellent. We're here"

I immediately threw the car door open and grabbed my duffel bag, running to the house. Ruby was waiting for me on her porch. He smiled as she saw me, then noticed the tear stains on my face "What's the matter?"

I scrambled hurridly for an excuse, then suddenly remembered "I got bit by a rat, it hurt like a bitch" I said, pulling up the baggy pants leg to show her the gross wound I had received yesterday. It had scabbed over badly so it still looked like it was fresh.

"Ugh, that sounds painful, come on, lets go. Do you need to do your laundry?" she asked.

I nodded and entered their house. The Tucker's household was the standard lower to middle class home. It was two floored but still very small, the cream couches matched the curtains almost spot on and they had rusty brown paint covering the walls. Their TV was a 40 inch and the couches were arranged in an orderly fashion against the walls so only the people on the largest and central couch could see clearly. There were no dents in the walls, no paint chips, no stains on their perfect tan carpet, and no insects or rodents constantly scuttling across the floor. It was a pleasant home, although very boring and almost seemed unlived in, as there were no pictures indicating the family ever stepped foot inside the house.

She led me to her carpeted stairs and I felt Mr. Tucker's cold glare on my back, inspecting my neck and back features, but I pretended not to notice. I just continued.

The walls up here had plain tan walls slightly paler than the carper and she led me to the room on the first right, her room.

Her room was different from the rest of the house, as far as I've seen the most different in the house. It had pink walls, surprising the few people who have ever seen it, and a pink bedspread. A pink and lime green rug covered the tan flooring. The curtains were green and her headboard had lime green accents on it. Few people knew that Ruby loved these colors, and she intended it to stay that way. No wanted to see an enraged Ruby, so the very scant amount of people who has seen her room never crosses her. It would basically be suicide.

We plopped on her incredibly soft mattress and just sat there, then she pulled her old Play Station 2 out and we played games now considered ancient. Craig had given it to her as a present once he had saved enough money for an Xbox 360. That was the first time I had ever seen both of them smile at the same time.

We played until the door was shoved open and all I saw were stone gray eyes. I instinctively screamed, until I realized who it was.

It wasn't Mr. Tucker, it was his son. Craig had the exact same stony eyes as his father, but that was where the similarities ended. Craig was a bastard child, with pitch black hair unlike the rest of his light haired family. He was so different in looks he almost seemed adopted. His father being pudgy and his mother being average to slightly overweight, Craig was basically a walking stick, the stereotype of an emo dresser. He had black skinny jeans that seemed to be too big on him, a silver studded belt, and a Blood on the Dance Floor shirt. His skin was pale and his face emotionless, and yet unlike the other emo people, he wore no makeup, and even colored himself up with a classic blue chullo with an eye popping yellow poofball and ties at the tips of the strings. However his attitude was basically the same, monotone yet easily angered. Tucker people were quick tempered and as scrawny as he looked he could kick anyone's ass easily. No one wanted to cross him, just like his sister and his parents. And they all had the habit of flipping everyone off.

"Mom told me to tell you dinner is ready" his voice was so flat he may as well have been talking in his death; a voice so lifeless could kill roses with a single sentence. I can admit that Craig scared me, so did the rest of his family, even Ruby sometimes.

"Craig I fucking told you to knock you douche!" she flipped him off and he did the same back, his black nail polish chipped. He closed the door silently and you could almost not hear the steps he took to go downstairs. We both stood up and made our way to the door and down the stairs to the dining room, with pale eggshell colored walls and a stainless hardwood table. We all ate the spaghetti in silence, Mr. Tucker's cold eyes constantly flicking back to me, which I ignored. Soon we all retreated to our own spaces and ruby finally asked what id been dreading.

"Why did you scream earlier?" she asked.

I swallowed a lump but said smoothly "He startled me," she nodded and accepted my answer. I threw my clothes into their washer, a tradition I had done since she first came over my house and found I had no washer or dryer and used pond water to clean my clothes once a week. I turned back to head to the room when I saw the same cold eyes as before, except these belonged to the older man.

I jumped and pressed my back and palms into the washing machine. He stepped closer. "Ill be dreaming about you tonight," he whispered. I trembled but finally after a thrust of his hips when he stepped a little close to me, he left and slammed his door.

I went to Ruby's room and we both fell asleep in our clothes, my dreams filled with Mr. Tuckers cold fingers and Kenny's face just watching me.

_For Kenny_ I told myself every time I woke up. _This is all to keep Kenny safe_ it managed to soothe me, but barely, and I kept returning to uneasy slumbers.

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**Ill be honest, i probably wont update this again until my other story is complete but when i do, which should be soon, then i will focus on this story alone, no more other chapter fics until this is done. maybe a few oneshots but otherwise JUST THIS!. reviews make me move faster :3 see yall soon hopefully (But ill be gone fro a week on the 28th bc im going on vacation) bye my lovelies! **


	3. Kenny: Continental drift

**HEY! so im about a month late but better late than never right? no? okay. anyway i guess my best excuse is my shit ton of work (no im not bull shitting you guys, im being completely real) and my new obsession, supernatural. I fucking love it, especially destiel so most likely expect that sometime soon. im only in season four, i think episode 7 so no spoilers past that! anyway hope you enjoy and all i know is im defiantly going to be adding onto this, when is a mystery, but ill try for sooner rather than later. enjoy!**

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I would rather be anywhere other than here. I would rather be home, where Karen is crying and mom and dad are screaming. I would rather be in front of a hunter's bullet. Fuck, I would rather be on the death star when it blows up than be here.

Outside of the principal's office, again.

I twiddle my thumbs, pretty pissed off that the little bitch trying to half bully, half seduce Karen doesn't have to be in this stifling room, with the sterilized puke green filing cabinets, which are most likely half full with my record, the other half probably Craig or Cartman. The dingy carpet, which may as well not even be there since it was as hard as plywood anyway. I groaned, just wanting to leave and go back to my last period class, which was a first.

"Ahem" I turned to see Mrs. Pascal, the principal. She was a fit woman, with a slightly wrinkled face and a perfect silver blonde bun. She always wore the same exact brown business suit every day (trust me, I of all people would know). It was a mystery on whether she just owned a bunch of the same EXACT fucking outfit or if she wore the same one every day. "Come on" she beckoned me with her finger, brown eyes glowering. I stood up, groaning again then sitting in the thinly cushioned chair on the opposite side of the woman's desk.

"Kenneth" She began.

My inner smartass came out "Bertha" I smirked, dipping my head to her. Her eyes somehow glared even harder.

"How many times have you seen me? Too many times to count. Fighting, ditching, disrespect" The disrespect one should not even have happened. I asked the teacher to slow down so I could understand and half the class had nodded their heads with me. She was just a psycho bitch. "And now you assault younger students,"

"He was picking on my sister!" I barked out, not in the mood to oblige. I had already had to sell drugs to my friend's father for the second time, and it's only been a week since the first time, and I was going over his house for a retro game night. Plus I got even less sleep since Karen had suddenly developed horrid night terrors.

I have no clue where they came from, last week, she was fine, sleeping normally, then suddenly, I heard the most soul shattering scream come from her room Sunday, and every night since then I had had to go soothe her. It was so hard hearing her so terrified, and it was only Wednesday.

"I'm sure he was, and I'll discuss that with him when his black eye is done being seen to. This has gone on long enough. You are suspended for five days"

My eyes bulged. I COULDN'T be suspended, as much as I fucked around; I needed school, to at least have an excuse to be away from home and near Karen.

I put my hands together, begging "Mrs. Pascal, please, there has to be something, I'll do anything." Except anything sexual. Sorry lady, I don't do old.

"Anything?" she smirked. I leaned backward slightly. I guess I could if I absolutely had to. . .

I bowed my head and breathed "Yes." Then bit my lip, what the hell was I doing?

She leaned closer and whispered right in my ear "Drama club it is"

I stood up immediately, the chair falling backward "No,"

She grinned even bigger, sadistic bitch "Unless you want to be suspended, you have to do drama,"

I stopped my words just as they were about to choke out. I could be even longer away from the house, and I could get Karen away from them longer. I was wondering whether it would be worth it. Being with a bunch of drama nerds with boners for Shakespeare and whatever other play writers there are, which I did know, since English was fucking pointless. They would be "Omigawd"ing all over the damn place and jumping around like bunnies on crack.

But then I remembered dad trying to throw a beer can at Karen's head and decided "Okay,"

She clapped her hands together "excellent! And don't think of getting out of it, I'll have regular reports from the head of drama. The next drama meeting is tomorrow, Good day Mr. McCormick"

I couldn't get out of there faster enough.

Later that day, I was walking with Kyle and Stan, them talking about some shit, maybe something about their homework.

Kyle looked at me "come on man, what's up your ass?" Kyle, although not the most attractive guy in the school, definitely got better looking since he was a kid, then again most of us did. His hair was little less fluffy than before, it became tight auburn curls and Kyle usually kept it as a pile of curls that barely went to the nape of his neck. He had fair skin, but not too bad and perfect skin. His teeth were slightly crooked but hardly noticeable, enough that he wouldn't need braces, and his nose was a little large for his face, yet somehow worked. He had twiggy arms and legs, and was almost as tall as Stan at 5'11. He normally wore a T-shirt, a pair of jeans that usually bundled at his feet, which always sported a pair of green converses, no matter what he was wearing, and a pea coat. His attitude didn't change much though. He was still a hothead with a heart of gold, and still was best friends with Stan. He was in all AP classes, even encores, and was just a model child, always a teacher's favorite, loved by all the adults.

Sometimes, I can't help but think he's a fucking twat. I'm glad Stan is his best friend because as good of a friend as he is, he can piss me off sometimes.

Then again, Stan does too, good thing they have each other.

Stan on the other hand was muscular, with sleek black hair that went to the left and dark blue eyes. He was tanner than Kyle, but not too tan, since we lived in South Park. Despite his rough exterior and masculine looks, he was such a fucking pussy! He would go home and cry, so Kyle would have to go and snap him out of his pity-fest, which I never could stand.

Without each other, they would be broken, good thing they had each other, no matter how pissy Kyle got or how much of a little bitch Stan was. Although it could be nice to know there was at least one person behind you, always having your back.

WOAH, no girl moments, nope.

I groaned and flipped Kyle off. Kyle smacked my hand away and asked again.

"Drama club,"

"So? What about it?" Sometimes Kyle could be slow.

"I hit some little punk for messing with Karen and now I have to either join drama or get suspended,"

Stan's eyes widened "You actually CHOSE drama over suspension, Kenneth McCormick where the hell did you get hit on your head?"

"Hell yeah man, I don't want to stay home for five days, too boring. But-" an overly perky voice interrupted us

"Hey fellas! Kenny can I walk to you?" I turned and nodded, Stan and Kyle walked off, throwing a goodbye over their shoulder and then talking quietly, their heads close and their shoulders touching.

"Fags," I muttered, too low for Butters to hear, then spoke up "So what's up?"

"Well, Mrs. Pascal told me to keep an eye on you," Butters said, and I looked up, surprised.

"YOU? YOU'RE the head of drama?" I asked.

"Well don't be so surprised," he retorted, and I felt a little bad "And yes, I am. I have a very close relationship with Mrs. Pascal"

I felt a faint glimmer of hope "Think you can talk her out of makin' me go?"

It disappeared when Butters shook his head "sorry, but she's set on this"

I kicked a fire hydrant "SHIT!" Butters raised an eyebrow. I realize how crazy I must look.

"What's your issue?" Butters questioned. I sighed, wondering whether to tell him.

I decided what the hell, what did I have to lose? "I can't be suspended, and that's my only other option. I gotta stay near Karen, but now I have to deal with this shit,"

"Well why doesn't she just join too?" Butters asked, and the light bulb suddenly flicked on in my head

"BUTTERS YOU FUCKING GENIUS YOU!" I picked his up in my arms and swung him around in a hug. This was the perfect solution, Karen could work for stage setup and prop design or some shit, and I could do light, or whatever the people who didn't want to be there did. We'd be away from home, she'd be able to do what she loves, and we would both get extracurricular credit, not that I really cared much for that, but we'd be SAFE, or more importantly, SHE'D be safe.

"Uh, Ken?" I realized I'd been hugging Butters this entire time. I let go of him, but still kept grinning from ear to ear.

"Well gee Ken, you sure got a smile brighter than a Christmas candle, what's got you so giddy?" Butters wiped his jacket off, looking at me curiously.

"You just gave me the solution to all my problems, c'mere!" I grabbed him with one arm and gave him a noogie with the other.

"ah, al-alright!" I let go of him, he smoothed his jacket again "Well, glad I could help!"

He started walking away and some deep part of me suddenly was aroused, something I hadn't felt for anyone since the fifth grade.

Compassion. Pity.

Why the hell should I pity him though? He has a loving family. He has the two story house, the money, the loving parents who were normally sober. He was fed three times a day, if not more. He wore clean clothes and had shampoo and running water and electricity and heating. He had everything I didn't have, everything I will never have. He has opportunity, he has a future shining brightly enough into those massive blue eyes to blind the fucker, so why the hell did I pity him? Why did I suddenly feel a connection to him? What the hell could we have in common?

We had nothing in common, we were polar opposites, and yet sometimes the North and South Pole could have common aspects to them. For one, they were both cold, bitingly cold. They were far away from civilization, who the hell wants to visit Siberia or Antarctica? No one. Who wants to get connected to someone who is so different from everyone else, who has never been quite in touch with the rest of society, and why the hell were countries, continents, whatever, like that so lonely, when they shared things in common with other places like them.

Because they were so far away, still so different, and yet not, but they could be brought closer together, slowly and gradually, but it could be done.

So don't give me any lip when you find out what I did next.

"BUTTERS!" I called, running toward his retreating silhouette. He turned to me, his head cocked to the side and a pink flush to his skin.

"Wanna come with me to hang out with Stan and Kyle?" I asked when I clamped a hand around his shoulders.

He shook his head "Sorry, but I have to do biology homework, but it shouldn't take long, biology is easy," I snorted.

"what part of biology is easy?" I asked

"Ken, are you having grade issues?" He questioned. I laughed. "That was a dumb question wasn't it?"

"Damn right, to both questions," I smiled.

"Well if you want I can tutor you," he said. I grinned even bigger.

"Alright, I just gotta go tell Stan and Kyle that I'm not showing up, see ya in ten!" I hiked my backpack over my shoulder and trudged towards Stan's house.

When I arrived I rang the doorbell. We were friends but not like him and Kyle, who could just walk in without a second thought.

Stan answered "Dude, finally!"

"Hey I'm not coming over alright, gotta do some studying with Butters," I told him.

"Why didn't you just call then?" I pulled the phone out of my pocket and showed him the dead screen. "For fucks sake Ken the whole point of a cell is to be able to contact people but half the tiem you don't even charge the damn thing,"

I shrugged, then froze when I heard a familiar voice "Who's at the door?"

Stan rolled his eyes "It's just Kenny, dad" I forced a very practiced straight face.

"Oh, hey, ain't chu one a Stan's friends?" His dad asked.

I nodded, which Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he never grew out of "Dad, you KNOW that"

"Well I gotta go, later Stan, tell Ky I said hey," I said

"Only I call him Ky," he retorted, then slammed the door.

I muttered again "god their such fags," Then trekked to Butters home, feeling ratty compared to the brick exterior with the wraparound porch and green shutters. The cheery wood door looked perfectly polished and every window seemed to have never even been touched they looked so brand new.

I wiped my finger off on my jacket before ringing the doorbell, hoping I didn't smudge it. The house looked too polished for me to not worry about leaving a single scuff mark.

Exactly six seconds later, Butters' mom opened the door, with a completely clear skin, despite a few aged wrinkles and crow's feet, and her blonde hair intermixed with some strands of gray and a silver part line. "Well, hi there! Don't you go to Butters school?"

I held out my hand "Yes ma'am, uh, I'm Kenny," her smile faltered for half a second.

"Well come in, but please, leave your shoes on the doorstep," she sounded strained, lmost begging, like my dirty "hooligan" ass would turn into a dust storm and demolished her perfectly carved out marble life. The walls were a taupe, brown color, with nice white leather couches, cherry wood coffee table, a plasma screen 50 inch TV, and crown moulding. The stairs were wooden with a white wooden railing, and the kitchen looked from where I stood to have granite counter tops, and um . . . flowers I guess. Pretty shit everywhere.

I scratched around my empty head to yank out something polite to say to Mrs. Stotch.

"You have a nice home," I said, trying to make it sound kind and not like I was meaning to steal everything she owned, which I guess didn't work because she gave me a funny look.

"Yes," she said tightly. "Well, Butters is upstairs, go ahead and see him, first door on the left," When I walked up her stairs I heard her mutter fiercely "don't touch anything!"

I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my footsteps from stomping as much as possible. How fucking prejudiced could you get.

I walked quietly through the hall, hoping to catch what Mrs. Scotch seemed to be saying to a phone, at least that's what I would guess because there was no one else home besides her and Butters. I decided to give up when she stopped talking and just knocked on Butters door.

He opened it, a bright smile on his face "Hey, come in I have everything set up,"

I was confused, until I walked into his room.

His whole room was done in blue, pale blue, navy blue, sky blue, all kinds of fucking blues. His bed sheets were pale with navy stripes, his walls blue, and his curtains blue. His furniture was white and his hardwood floors were oak, but otherwise, everything possible was blue. His books were spread all over his white desk and his twin sized bed was covered in worksheets, snacks, and more books. Jesus fucking Christ who the hell owns all these BOOKS?

"Well, go ahead, sit" Butters said. I looked around; every inch of his bed was covered in books, where was I supposed to sit?

He rolled his eyes, shoved some books out of the way, and say down, patting some more empty blue comforter room, which I plopped down in. "Butters where did all these books come from?"

"I bought them, been collecting as many as I could since I could remember," Why was I so surprised that Butters liked reading? "Anyway, here's the Biology book" he handed me a textbook. I flipped it open about halfway through.

"Ken, were not in human reproduction yet," I looked down, was sex just fucking drawn to me?

"Heh, do you know when we can get into THAT unit?" I asked. Butters rolled his eyes and flipped about two hundred pages back.

"Mitosis" I groaned. What the fuck was Mitosis? "Right. . . . um- no shut up" I held my hand up as Butters opened his mouth "Its . . . isn't that when something makes food?"

Butters shook his head "No, that's photosynthesis"

"But they both have sis in them" I said

He ran a hand through his hair "Well let's begin"

An hour later and I finally got it.

"Okay, so what is prophase?" he asked

"That's the first stage right? That's when the cell turns chromatin into chromasomes, that spindle thing is made, and the nucleolus is gone"

He nodded and said "Next?"

"Uh. . . that's metaphase, right?" he nodded so I continued "meta. . . middle . . . the chromosomes line up in the middle!"

"Anaphase?" Butters said eagerly

"The chromosomes are pulled apart into two chromatids per chromosome and is pulled by the spindle toward the ends of the cell, and Telophase is when the chromosomes go back into chromatin, the nucleolus comes bacl, and the envelope is made around the chromatin, and the cell is getting bigger." I said, a little too excited.

Butters jumped up "yup! Here," he tossed me a bag of chips and I immediately opened it and ate.

"Damn, I learned stuff," I said, a little confused.

Butters was about to say something when my phone rang. I held my finger up and answered.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Boy where the hell are you?" my eyes widened.

"Dad?" he chuckled.

"Who else, the freakin president. Fucking pansy ass bi-"

I interrupted "What do you want?"

"When ya coming home?"

"Uh. . . five?" I looked at the clock, which said four now.

Dad grunted and hung up. I sighed and tossed my phone.

"So what am I gonna be doing for drama? Whats going on for it?"

"Well, we have the play were gonna do, we just need to cast and do everything else" Butters ran a hand through his platinum hair, looking a little weary.

"What play? Romeo and Juliet? Greece? High school musical?"

"Plays aren't just musicals you know? There's more than that,"

Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that?

"Sorry, I don't have the enthusiasm of an energizer bunny when it comes to this shit," I told him.

"Well this shit is going to save your ass from getting detention so deal with it." He retorted back.

I grunted and shoved my mouth into the sleeve of my jacket, which was resting on my propped up knees. "So which play are we doing?

"We're doing 'A Doll's House'," the innocent blonde said.

"Never heard of it," he rolled his eyes.

"Why am I so shocked at this revelation that you don't know classic literature" I raised a brow.

"When did you become such a dickweed?"

"Sergeant sarcasm reporting for duty" Butters saluted me "It's a play about how a woman who thought she had the dream life learns what her life really is. We're changing it into a musical, because that's all people think theater is so may as well give people what they want," he sighed.

I said nothing, because before a few moments ago I had the same mind set.

"So what are you thinking of doing?" Butters said.

"Lighting, something well away from front stage," I chuckled. I ignored the inner voice screaming at me, mainly because I didn't know what it was saying clearly enough.

Butters breathed in deeply "Kenny, uh. . . Mrs. Pascal wanted you to audition . . . for one of the main roles."

I jerked my body a bit, "Uh, excuse me? I'm not getting on that damn stage and singing about how some girls life is shit,"

"well if you get the part then yeah, that's exactly what you're doing, and Mrs. Pascal said you had to try, or else she's kick you out,"

I groaned and threw my head backward, not wanting to think of this. I looked at the clock. 4:38.

"Shit" I grabbed my bag and all the notes I had taken with Butters "uh. . . thanks dude, but I got to go. Homes on the other side of town and I don't want to be late,"

"Let me drive you," Butters offered. I hesitated, and finally nodded when I head the branches of a tree nearby scrape the house from the wind. I pulled my bag on and went down with Butters, who was putting on a black pea coat.

"I'll be back, I'm just going to drive Kenny home," Butters said to his mother, who was sipping tea on the couch, and his father, who was reading a newspaper next to her.

"Alright then, behave Butters, don't drive over the speed limit, don't get into any accidents, and DON'T get your car towed," Mr. Stotch warned him.

"Alright father, I'll see you soon," he waved to them both before leaving, and I followed him.

Butters unlocked the door of a Honda Accord, which didn't surprise me at all. Every fucking new driver's first car was an Accord. Butters' was blue.

I hopped in, sitting on the tan cloth of his seats and tapping on my knees as he pulls out of the driveway. We drive down the road and I glance at his speedometer.

"Uh, Butters? We're only going twenty," I remind him.

"Yeah so?"

"The speed limit is thirty"

"Father said not to go over the speed limit," Butters said. Was he just that? An obedient little puppy?

"So fucking what? He's not here, lets ride like a car should be ridden!" I exclaim.

Butters looked a little nervous and refused. I asked for him to pull over.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because we still got time before I need to be home and I want to show you some fun not get up." He sighed and opened his door, which I climbed out of mine and we traded spots. I smirked, pulled on my seatbelt, and immediately floored it.

"KENNY!" he screamed, but I laughed.

"Take it easy Butters! Just sit back and watch what passes!" he sighed and laid his head against his headrest mumbling something similar to "We're going to die" over and over while his eyes remained glued shut.

We were in open backwoods road now, no one else, just us and the trees. I turned to him and whispered into his ear, as creepy as that sounds "Open your eyes" he shook his head but I just requested it again.

He slowly revealed his ice blue eyes a crack, but when he did, they widened larger and larger in awe and wonder as the world flew by. He breathed a laugh, and cracked his award winning smile. I rolled the windows down and he shoved his head out like a dog.

"Woo! WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!" we yelled together at the spindly trees still struggling to grow some leaves. There was still snow on the ground and there were sparse animals beginning to come back. The sky was nearly as pale as the blonde boys eyes and there was not a cloud in sight, the only view on the horizon was more naked trees and the cold snowcapped mountains.

"So why were you so worried about your dad?" I asked him, unable to hide my curiosity anymore.

He laughed but this time lacking mirth "he doesn't exactly win world's best father award. Same could go for my mother,"

"I can relate there," Butters looked at me with guilt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be complaining when you have it so much worse," I looked at him. No one had ever apologized for complaining, and no one had ever addressed that they didn't have th eright to because of my own living standard. They just say 'You're used to it' or 'at least you have *insert something completely stupid and pointless here*'

"No-no. I think we are pretty similar, despite our opposite exteriors, That's why I want to get to know you better," I let slip.

He smiled "Good" we parked and traded seats again, this time he drove five miles over the speed limit, which was an improvement, despite our earlier ninety mile ride.

"See you later Butters" I waved and entered the door, unlocked. He waved back and only drove away when the door was closed.

I looked around, only dad was there, sipping on a Papst blue ribbon "Where's mom and Karen?"

He turned to me "Uh . . . Carols at the store" the liquor store I knew. He didn't have to tell me where "and Karen's at some boy's house"

My head snapped to attention. Boy? Little Karen was with some boy?

* * *

**so yeah, that was my addition. the most pointless but longest chapter yet. sorry i just wanted to focus on relationship development and the whole drama thing. hope you liked, reviews feed me, so please dont let me starve! bye my lovelies!**


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